Until Next Year
by sadzone
Summary: Finch wonders why Devil Lad keeps coming back every Halloween despite their other friends abandoning the sacred day. He wants to get to the bottom of it, but his night is thrown through a loop when Bubbles and Squeak show up. {Slight FinchxDL feels} {Rated for swearing}
1. Sacred Moment

**ok so-**

**Hello. This is my first ever ****fic, I hope you enjoy it.  
I'm under the impression that most of the ILH fandom is dead since the comic was cut short and ended a long time ago, but Finch and Devil Lad still hold a special place in my heart. In some ways, I can relate to their friendship and the comics remind me of golden days with my friends.**

**Sorry it's not the best written! I just recently starting to write again and I'm still in need of lots of work.**

**The story is finished and I'll be uploading the chapters all at once~ **

**If you enjoyed reading let me know! Or help me with constructive criticism!**

* * *

**Act 1. Sacred Moment**

Finch waited alone by the stop sign at the end of his neighborhood's street corner.

The sun sank behind quaint homes and trees, leaving their black silhouettes against an orange gradient sky in its wake. A chilled wind blew up leaves and sand, whirling them about in a ghostly dance and street lights flickered on as the last moments of sunlight were chased away by night.

It was officially Halloween.

"Sacred moment." He whispered to no one but himself.

Finch was 17 now. He still kept his hair a red spiky mess and he was still shorter than most boys his age. Despite that, he still demanded the respect of his peers. His cool exterior remained an intimidating element. While he was mostly aloof, everyone listened when he spoke. And, still, although most would say he was too old, he upheld the Halloween traditions his friends and him had instilled years before.

And what changed? His friends did, for one thing. Mr. Kitty and Pig Pig, who now preferred their real names even on this sacred day, had long abandoned their costumes. Now, on Halloween, they would party hop all night, chasing scantily dressed girls and stealing bottles of beer from the refrigerators of the hosts to hold them over until they hit the next party. Though he missed their companionship, Finch couldn't help but to laugh to himself and admire their new sense of mischief. Moochie, on the other hand, followed in Finch's footsteps. She no longer needed her big brother to accompany her on Halloween night; she had her own crowd of troublemakers to go out with. No doubt they were out causing chaos tonight.

"Alone again this year, I see." a familiar voice broke Finch from his thoughts and brought him back to the current autumn night. He turned and met the eyes of the last surviving remnant of Halloweens past- Devil Lad.

He stood there in his typical fashion, red hood drawn tightly around his deadpan devil's mask, hands stuck in his sweatshirt's large middle pocket, standing nonchalantly with his weight on his left side.

"Appears that way." The shorter boy replied casually, not bothering to say any proper hellos.

Devil Lad was Finch's once-a-year friend. The mysterious boy would show up only on Halloween night. He was always fashionably late, and he would disappear before the night was out, sometimes without anyone noticing or even saying goodbye. It stung in a way. Finch would turn around to acknowledge the devil, and he would just be gone. He would disappear into thin air it seemed at times. Finch would be left standing there alone, on a dirt path in the woods or on the sidewalk, just as the sun began to cast a shadow before him. And then it would be nothing until next year. Finch had tried to address this at one point, but the obscure devil just shrugged it off saying he may stop by sooner, it just depended on "this n that", but he never did show. Finch found himself wondering where the boy even came from. Mr. Kitty seemed to be convinced he was a "Halloween Poacher", someone who showed up to score in another neighborhood and then ditch when it was all drained of candy. Finch wasn't so sure. There seemed to be something otherworldly about the cryptic visitor. That and, to be honest, Devil Lad didn't exactly fit the profile for a "Halloween Poacher". That is to say, Finch and him had stopped trying to collect candy a few years ago. The adults had begun to turn them away more and more, declaring the candy was for the children. So instead of hoarding treats, the two spent their night playing tricks. If he were a poacher, he didn't have a reason to keep coming back…so why did he?

"So what's on the plate for tonight, Finch?" Devil Lad piped up after a moment of silence between them. "I was thinking about what you said last year, you know, about the sling shots," he reached into his big sweatshirt pocket and pulled out two sling shots and a brown paper bag that looked close to bursting, "so I brought these and the marbles."

Finch felt a smile creep across his face behind his skeletal mask. He took the bag in his hands and pulled out a transparent glass marble, streaked with a twist of red and blue through the middle. He could feel a surge of excitement pulse through him as he eyed the perfect sleek sphere. This was the sort of fun he lived for. Finch had always had an ambition for trouble, and it seemed like Devil Lad was always willing to match it. This was a driving force behind their friendship that Finch could not easily replace.

"These oughtta leave big welts. Nicely done." He dropped the ammo back into its bag and began to walk, waving Devil Lad after him.

"C'mon, I know a great tree we can camp out in and wait for our, uh, prey to come by."

"Lead the way."

The two walked side by side down the hill out of Finch's neighborhood, past orange-lit houses adorned with skeletons, jack-o-lanterns and cotton cobwebs. They were headed towards the hottest trick-or-treating spot in Turgid Meadows, the "rich neighborhood". Kids swarmed there like bees to honey, pushing past each other in a barbaric attempt to be the first person at the doors of the pristine white mansions that lined the streets. The homes were rarely ever decorated, but the adults threw sugary sweets out better than anywhere else. Full bars, handfuls of candy, even premade goodie bags were all a common score, but the competition made it a battle to get your hands on any of it. The neighborhood went dry fast, and the kids knew that, if you wanted to get in while it was good, you had to show up early. Finch couldn't think of a better place to ruin someone else's Halloween.

As the two walked silently, hands shoved in pockets, eyes following the sidewalk, Finch's mind began to wander again. His thoughts kept getting pulled back to the ever-present mystery that was Devil Lad. Finch didn't even know the guy's first name, let alone where he came from or what he may look like under that red plastic face. Every year it seemed to be more and more of a miracle that he even showed up. Sure, they always managed to have some fun, but it seemed that the fun was less as each Halloween came and went. Camping out in a tree and pelting kids with marbles could make for an entertaining hour or so, but who wanted to spend an entire night doing that? Devil Lad could easily have this sort of fun on his own any other day of the week; it wasn't necessarily a thing to do on Halloween night. As Finch thought it over, he felt an inevitable truth closing in on him. When will Devil Lad stop showing up? He can't come forever…and he doesn't have a reason to. This could be the last year he even bothers.

With that, the red head decided he would have to unravel any secrets the devil faced boy possessed tonight. For all he knew, it would be their last Halloween.


	2. Target Practice

**Act 2. Target Practice**

* * *

"This is the one." Finch announced, nodding towards a big, black oak.

The ancient tree stood across the street, just opposite of the entrance to the wealthy neighborhood cul-de-sac. In other words, everyone would have to pass by here to get to the sugary treasures that lay just beyond. To it's back was a dark forest that extended farther than the eye could see. Finch spent most of his summer days hunting small rodents or looking for animal skeletons in those woods. He knew his way around and, if Devil Lad and him got into any trouble, they could easily duck away and hide there. But Finch didn't think this would be necessary. Although the old oak was stripped bare this time of year, he was confident that the branches and the dark of night would conceal the two tricksters.

"Suits me." Devil Lad replied with a careless shrug. He approached the mammoth tree, grabbed a low hanging branch, and hoisted himself up to a stable place. Suddenly, he peered off into the distance, alerted by the clamor of plastic pumpkin pales and giggling children. "C'mon! I hear someone coming."

"Uh…" Finch's eyes searched the tree for a place to grab onto. He sighed audibly, cursing his height to himself upon realizing there were no branches low enough for him to reach.

"What? You need a hand?" Devil Lad commented smugly, observing the air of irritation around the shorter boy.

Finch could tell he was smirking; it was obvious in his voice.

He extended his arm out to his friend, securely holding onto a branch to prevent him from falling.

"Here, grab my hand."

"I bet you're loving this, huh?" The skull-faced boy remarked dryly, grabbing Devil Lad's hand.

Though he tried to remain cool, Finch could feel his heart beating out of his chest when Devil Lad grasped his hand in his own. His hand was cold, colder than ice. It startled Finch, in fact, and prompted him to try and think back to another time they had even touched before. Nothing came to mind.

Devil Lad pulled Finch up, who grabbed the closest branch that came into sight.

"What is up with your hands? They're so cold." Finch asked.

"What? Huh?" Devil Lad seemed to be caught off guard by this strange question, but collected himself quickly, "It's an October night, man, what the hell do _you_ think?"

"Oh, _excuse me_." Finch replied, making sure to exaggerate his voice so the sarcasm was clear.

"You're excused. So, should we go up another set of branches? Seems like we could get a better view and aim up there."

Finch nodded and they made their way up, settling down at the base of two thick branches that provided an excellent view. Below them, a gaggle of children galloped by triumphantly, proud to be the first on the scene.

"I guess we'll have to get those little brats on their way out." Finch remarked.

* * *

_WHAP!_

The sound of a glass marble against tender skin was often followed by an alarmed yelp and then a flood of tears as the sting of the welt reached its peak.

Devil Lad bit his tongue in an effort to silence his laughter as the two watched the children below panic and run off with their friends. Finch just sighed quietly, not as amused as his friend. His mind was elsewhere.

"This is how to spend Halloween." Devil Lad remarked, taking aim at a young boy dressed as a black cat.

"I guess…" Finch replied blankly just before the boy yelled out in shock.

The pair had been targeting kids with their deadly slingshots for about an hour now. Finch felt a slow decline in his enthusiasm as his mind sank deeper and deeper into a bleaker state.

The red head took aim at the next group of kids. Two girls dressed as witches and a boy dressed like a ghost- classics. He figured he could just shoot the marble into them and it would have to hit something. He released the glass bullet, but before he could guess whom it might choose, one of the witches screeched like a scared dog and grabbed her shoulder. Finch watched as her friend's gathered around her to examine the situation. He loaded up another marble, feeling rather impatient, and shot the ghost boy in the back. He too cried out in pain and surprise. The unwounded witch, who had sat down to look at her companions welt, shot up suddenly from helping the wounded and told her friend's to run for it, fearful she might be next in the line of attacks. They raced off in the opposite direction, abandoning their quest to enter the rich neighborhood.

Finch, who had felt Devil Lad's yellow eyes on him this entire time, finally caved and looked over at his friend who was sitting there propping his arm up on his knee and his face against his palm in a matter of unamusement.

"_What?_"

"What? What do you mean 'I guess'? This was your idea, Finch, I thought you were enjoying yourself."

"Well, I guess I've just been thinking…" Finch signed.

"Uh-oh." Devil Lad joked.

"No, seriously. I've been thinking."

Giggling broke the otherwise quiet moment as a small crowd of four or so children came into sight. It was the kids who had made it in first, Finch realized. He could see them approaching, barely able to hold their trick-or-treat bags. He searched the paper bag for the largest marbles, the shooter marbles, which he had been saving just for these costumed annoyances since they had escaped their fate earlier that night.

"About_ what_?" the red masked boy prodded. He snapped his fingers in front of Finch's face, demanding his attention.

Finch looked over at his friend again. He didn't want to say it, fearful that vocalizing it would make it come true. He didn't want to ask why Devil Lad still came around, he didn't want to suggest they were too old for this crap, most of all he didn't want Devil Lad to agree and not come back next year. But he could sense it was too late to back out. The boy before him wanted answers, and, well, so did Finch.

"Why do you still come around every year?" he managed to ask, though his voice was unintentionally soft and shy. He avoided any eye contact, looking back at the kids as they came closer into range.

"Hello? It's Halloween; I always come around on Halloween. Did you fall on your head and forget or something?" Devil Lad replied, a tone of sarcasm evident in his voice.

"Yeah, but _why_? Halloween isn't what it used to be, man. It's not like we can't do this garbage any other day of the week…why don't you ever show up during the year?" Finch found it hard to stop himself now that he had opened up. His voice grew braver, almost irritated. He didn't like how Devil Lad seemed to want to avoid the topic.

Now the group of kids were nearly just beneath the tree. Finch tried to act cool, hoping his agitation wasn't too obvious. He took aim at the children, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, though his thoughts were truly a mile away.

"I'm busy, ok? Let's just say this is my one day off."

Finch felt himself snap.

"What does that even _mean_?" He barked automatically, turning to the red masked boy sharply, completely disregarding his approaching prey.

In his excitement, Finch didn't realize how much he was moving, and the paper bag of marbles that had been wedged between himself and the tree was now being squeezed past it's point of capacity. It ripped open from the side suddenly, a stream of glistening orbs spilling out of it. They clacked all the way down the tree, hitting branches on their way, and then finally hitting the sidewalk below. They barely missed the crowd of children, who collectively shouted out and began to scramble, bumping into one another, not sure what was happening. To add to the hysteria, a flood of light and a horn blared coming from the direction of the neighborhood. In their panic, the kids ran across the street and out of sight.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Finch snapped as he watched his long awaited prey disappear.

A busted up black car came into view, lurching forward as if looking for something.

"Hey, Finch, chill out. It's not a big deal, we can jus-"

Finch loaded up one of the shooter marbles he had pocketed earlier and aimed for the car's windshield. He didn't think, he just let his anger and the heat of the moment guide him.

"No, no, no! Finch, c'mon, man!" Devil Lad reached out to stop Finch, but it was too late.

The marble had hit its target perfectly, lodging itself into the glass of the windshield, creating a spider web of cracked glass around it.

The car stopped with a screech, so suddenly that the back end jolted a little.

"Well, great." Devil Lad remarked dully.

Finch remained silent as the car doors swung open and he felt his heart suddenly sink. The silhouettes of two figures emerged, one tall and skinny, the other short and fat. He knew immediately who it had to be.

"Bubbles 'n Squeak." Finished the red clad boy as he placed a hand to his mask, as if to acknowledge a headache.


	3. Delinquents

**Act 3. Delinquents**

* * *

Bubbles and Squeak were about four years older than Finch. They were both high school dropouts who made a career of tormenting anyone younger than them. Bubbles, or Spike as he liked to be called, was a tall frightening figure. His black hair was always dirty, sticking out wildly from his hood. His mouth was crowded with long yellow teeth that looked so jagged and rotted you'd wonder how he even chewed with them. All in all, he was a sight, and his personality matched. Along side him at all times, was his one and only friend, Squeak, who was more like a parrot than a person. He served nearly no purpose but to repeat every sentence that Bubbles said, a constant echo. He was short and round like a pumpkin and he rarely wore clothes that actually fit, his large stomach was almost always peaking out from his shirt. His loyalty to Bubbles was boarder line demented. If anyone was to ever speak out against his king he would jump them like a rabid dog and beat on them until Bubbles, usually embarrassed by this uncalled for behavior, would yank him off.

Finch tried to avoid them whenever possible.

"So, who wants to die tonight?" Yelled Bubbles as he slammed his car door. "Show yer'self, you little shit!"

"Yeah, show yer'self!" Squeak echoed, circling around the car to join Bubbles by his side.

Devil Lad and Finch stiffened, not daring to even breathe. They both knew what the other was silently thinking- _'Stay quiet and pray these two morons go off looking in the wrong direction.'_

Suddenly, as if fate were truly against them, a single marble squeezed itself from the torn paper bag, not missing a single branch as it fell. The two felt themselves cringe at every little noise it made on its way down until it finally landed at the feet of the enemy. Bubbles and Squeak raised their heads in unison and their four eyes locked with those in the tree.

"Fuck this."

Devil Lad jumped from the tree and headed for the woods without skipping a beat. Finch followed in suite, hitting the rock solid ground with a thud and darting after him.

"Yer gonna to pay for this, you little fucks! When we catch up with you, yer gonna WISH you hadn't come out tonight! C'mon Squeak, hurry!"

Bubbles launched into the woods, Squeak struggled to keep up behind him, cursed by his weight.

"Now what?" asked Devil Lad between huffing as he ran.

"This way." Finch nodded to the right, "There's an old shed out here we can hide in."

They ran as fast as they could, desperately trying to get enough space between them and the two giving chase so that they could duck off and not be seen. Behind them, the sounds of angry growling and branches snapping grew fainter as they pulled ahead just in time.

"Here!" Finch yelled in a whisper.

He grabbed Devil Lad by the sleeve and yanked him aside into some brush. They knelt down and watched for a moment as their hunters rushed by still yowling and cursing them, completely unaware.

"C'mon…"

Finch led the way just a few steps more to a dark, abandoned shed house. The rotting wood was overgrown with weeds and vines and was well hidden behind an overgrowth of bushes. This was Finch's favorite place to store his forest-finds.

He pulled open the door gently, so not to make a sound, and the two hunted hurried inside, shutting the door behind them and sitting down against the wall. A busted out window just above their heads allowed for a stream of pale moonlight to fill up the otherwise dark room. It illuminated the cobwebs, rusted tools, and bits of animal skeleton that hung from walls and it reflected from broken glass, shimmering on the dirt floor.

It seemed like tonight was filled with awkward silences, or at least Finch thought so. In reality, neither Finch nor Devil Lad were big talkers, but the tenseness of this Halloween evening added emphasis on every quiet moment between them. Finch felt the moments drag on for what seemed like an eternity; meanwhile, Devil Lad didn't seem the least bit phased. But how could Finch know anyway? The plastic red mask was as blank and emotionless as a taxidermy deer. Even if his demonic friend was tense as well, there would be no way of knowing.

"…So…?"

"Sorry…I don't know what came o-"

"Don't worry about it, Finch. Right now, we should just focus on getting out of here without any broken bones."

Finch nodded and dropped the subject. He sat thinking, plotting. They could just sneak out now and run as fast as they could back to his neighborhood- but that was too easy. In fact, Finch didn't want to run at all. Every year these two imbeciles haunted Halloween night, it was about time they were the ones who were tricked. Finch stuck his hands in his sweatshirt pocket mindlessly to keep them from the biting cold. Inside his pocket, his fingers discovered the three last shooter marbles, still waiting to mark a victim. He couldn't help but to chuckle to himself as a plan slowly began to form.

Devil Lad leaned in, "You're putting something together, aren't you?"

"Well, of course."


	4. The Hunters Become the Hunted

**Act. 4 The Hunters Become the Hunted**

* * *

Bubbles and Squeak stopped at a clearing in the woods. They had been aimlessly running after nothing for a few minutes now.

"…Hey Bub- I mean, Spike, where do ya 'spose those two kids went?" Asked Squeak.

"If I knew, do ya think I'd be standin' here in the dark like this?" Bubbles snapped back, thoroughly irritated and confused by the sudden disappearance of the two costumed teens.

"Maybe we should go back...we left the car and all of the can-"

"SHHH SHHH!" Bubbles waved a hand in front of his companion's face and bent his knees slightly, listening, "Did'ja hear that?"

The night was still and quiet, even the wind wasn't blowing anymore. Squeak waited and listened.

"…No…I-"

The rustling of branches was barely audible, but Bubbles heard it for sure.

"There is it again!" He hissed under his breath, "There is definitely something going on here…"

"Bubbles!"

Before he knew what hit him, Bubbles felt a blunt force against his back, pushing him to the cold earth violently, knocking the air from his chest. He let out a strange noise- a yelp muted by the lack breath in his lungs. He felt the weight shift on his back and saw a figure leap before him as the weight was lifted. The devil masked teen had jumped down onto him from a tree above.

"Oops, sorry about that." He said, shrugging, "I guess I didn't see you."

Bubbles coughed hard as he tried to straighten himself up. He shooed Squeak away who had run up to him, trying to help him to his feet, asking frantically if he was ok. Bubbles, who was already red in the face as it was, seemed to become even redder as the chubby boy smothered him like a mother to her child. He finally gave Squeak a sharp push away.

Devil Lad just stood there, hands in his pockets, watching as the older boy struggled to catch his breath and get up off his knees by himself. It was almost more pathetic than if he had let Squeak help him.

"Yer….dead…." He managed to wheeze as finally hoisted himself to his feet.

"Yeah! Dead!" Squeak echoed nervously. He was clearly more concerned with the older boy's health than Devil Lad's punishment, but he went along supporting Bubbles, not wanting to embarrass him any further.

"Ok." Replied the demonic joker. He snapped his fingers and added, almost as if it were an after thought, "Oh, but you have to catch me first."

With that, he dashed away, vanishing again into the darkness. Bubbles, rejuvenated by his rage, shot after him without hesitation. Squeak, as usual, hobbled after them, yelling out for the two of them to slow down.

The eldest boy was like a rabid animal now. He cleared any obstacle in his way, jumping over logs and pushing aside bushes without missing a beat. He was seeing red, his body boiling so hot with anger he didn't even feel the cold anymore. The boy in front of him tried to throw Bubbles off by serpentining through the forest, weaving in and out around trees, but it put little distance between the two of them. He kept his eyes trained to the boy's back, not even daring to blink. The more they ran, the farther into thicker brush they seemed to be going. There didn't seem to be a path at all, anymore. The three were just running through bushes and thick overgrowths now. Devil Lad would disappear into leaves, and then reappear briefly on the other side as Bubbles emerged from the shrubbery. It was getting increasingly hard to keep his eyes on his mark.

As Bubbles followed Devil Lad through another thicket of branches and vines, he suddenly felt the ground beneath him disappear. Instinctually, he grabbed a handful of leaves and thin branches, saving himself from a fall into, what appeared to be, a swampy trench below. He cursed himself quietly, pulling himself up to solid ground again. Before he could assess the situation fully, he heard the staggered trotting and heavy breathing of someone struggling to run. Squeak emerged suddenly from the brush, running past Bubbles, a confused expression written on his face.

"You idiot!" Bubbles exclaimed, reaching out to grab his friend's sleeve, but his reflexes failed him this time.

Squeak tumbled down the steep muddy hillside, wailing all the way. He continued to roll until he finally splashed into the murky brown water below.

He sat himself up, his left side completely coated in mud where he had landed.

"…I'm ok."

The chubby teen spit out dirty water and wet grass.

"Oh, uh…" he tugged at his left arm that was still emerged under water.

"What?" Bubbles barked down after him.

"It's stuck or something?" Squeak gave his arm another vigorous yank.

The appendage came loose, and he pulled it up from the water to reveal it had been caked in thick mud. As he attempted to stand up, he found it was much more difficult to lift his legs, which had also been sucked into the earth. Bubbles watched over the ledge, forgetting about his goose chase completely.

"I can't move." Squeak finally said bleakly, admitting defeat.

"Yer such an idiot, I swear. Stay there, I'm gonna find somethin' for you to grab on to so's I can pull you out."

Bubbles turned to leave, parting the bushes ahead of him. A whistling from above brought his attention to the skeleton faced teen sitting on a branch just above him.

"Happy Halloween." Finch said in an almost sing-song way.

A gleaming glass orb cut the air and pelted Bubbles in the dead center of his forehead. He fell forward to his knees, curled over, yelling out in pain as a trickle of blood streamed out between his fingers cuffed over the site of attack. Finch jumped from the branch, landing in front of the wounded older teen and delivered a powerful kick directly between his legs, causing his upper half to snap and fall over, tensed with pain. His eyes were glossed and glassy and his mouth opened up like a big "o", a look of agony and shock evident in every crease on his dirty, red face.

Suddenly, the red devil appeared before him like an angel of death. He stood there with his skeletal reaper companion, looking down at the crippled boy with no gesture of remorse or pity. After a moment, the two exchanged looks and Devil Lad set a mud-covered sneaker on Bubbles' shoulder, firmly pushing his helpless pain snared body over the edge of the trench. He rolled down the slick hill and into the water, face first. Squeak tried desperately to wade to his friend's side, losing both of his shoes in the process as he pulled at his legs with all of his strength. Bubbles came up from the water, gasping for air. Another sharp pain pierced the side of his face, and a large glass marble fell into the water next to him with a benevolent plink.

"One for you…" Finch aimed his last marble at the chubby teen below, pulled the sling taught, and released it. It created an instant welt on Squeak's neck, who let out a cry. "And one for you."

Finch and Devil Lad watched amused as the two below struggled to collect themselves. Squeak tried to speak to Bubbles, who was so disoriented by pain and surprise that he didn't even know where he was or how he managed to land himself in a muddy swamp. He babbled on about nothing and Squeak sat beside him in the water like a loyal dog, unsure what to do next.

"Ok, I'm over it." Devil Lad said after another moment of watching the pathetic display.

"Same."

They made their way back through the forest, casually walking side by side.

"How long to do you think it'll take them to get out of that mess?" Devil Lad asked as they made it out through the thickest part of the forest.

"Honestly, I couldn't say. It's hard enough to lift your legs in that water, but climbing up the side and getting out is almost impossible. It's all slippery mud and it's pretty steep…"

Finch felt euphoric. All the adrenaline in his body had drained and the walk out of the forest was quiet and calm. The night didn't seem so glum anymore, Finch felt like he was thirteen again.

He looked up at the sky, which had gone from pitch black to a navy blue- morning was on it's way. Any minute now, he may be gone. A momentary sadness crossed him, but he shook it away quickly. If Devil Lad never did come back, at least he had these memories.

Just up ahead, lights broke the night. The sidewalks were abandoned, the streetlights had turned off, the houselights of the mansion type homes all out and all of the children safely home. The night was just nearly over. They had made it out of the forest, guided by the headlights of Bubbles' car. Leave it to those two to leave a running car unattended.

Finch walked up to the driver side of the car and unzipped his fly.

"Are you kidding me, man? That's like pissing on someone's grave. You don't know when to stop."

"Hey, they're going to come after me anyway, might as well go all out."

As Finch finished up, something in the back seat of the car caught his eye. The luminesant green of a dying glow-in-the-dark ghost stenciled onto a cheap plastic trick-or-treat bag. Finch wordlessly opened the back door and began to pull out bag after bag.

"Bingo."

Devil Lad ran over to the drivers back door, "What is all that?"

"Candy. It's bags and bags of candy. Bubbles and Squeak must've been hiding out in the neighborhood preying on the kids trick-or-treating. There are six full bags in here."

He pulled them all out, one after the other, and set them on the concrete in front of them.

Devil Lad put a hand to his head, dumbstruck by their luck.

"That's more loot than we ever scored by ourselves."

"C'mon, help me get this shit out of the road."


	5. Next Year

**Act 5. Next Year**

* * *

The two split the bags, three and three. They made their way together to the local park and sat down on top of the chipping red picnic table, watching the quiet streets.

Finch sighed, he felt as though he still owed Devil Lad an apology for acting so childish before.

"Listen, I really am sorry for earlier." He said, staring down at his shoes, "It's just that, well… you're my last real friend, you know? I'm just worried that soon you won't have a reason to keep coming back, and I'll lose the last thing that matters in my life."

Finch immediately felt himself choke. A rush of embarrassment flooded him as he realized how pathetic that sounded. Devil Lad sat silently, making it worse and worse as the seconds dragged on. Finch could only imagine the way Devil Lad must feel now. Disgusted, embarrassed, awkward? Maybe this stupid slip up would be the reason he never came back.

Finch's imagination was about to suffocate him when, finally, the other boy turned to him and spoke,

"Finch, if I could, I would come around more often, believe me." He was almost whispering, but suddenly his voice grew more excited and loud, "But I come around every year because of you, man. I come around 'cause every year you always get me into some weird shit! Even if you didn't, even if we just sat around and waited out the night, Halloween wouldn't be the same without you. That's why I always come back, Finch, because you're my friend."

Finch felt his face flush. He didn't look over at Devil Lad, he couldn't, even if his expressions were hidden by his mask. He felt a strange bashfulness he regularly never suffered from. He hadn't expected such an honest reply. Finch felt the satisfaction of validation, something he didn't know he even wanted, but was happy to receive. He felt his fondness for the other boy grow, as if hearing that his presence was wanted and not just tradition or pity allowed Finch to _really_ feel. His anxieties melted away, and he could enjoy this night in its entirety for the first time in a long time.

Devil Lad put a cold hand on Finch's shoulder, seemingly sensing that Finch didn't have words for the moment.

"Trust me, man, I know it sucks- but at least we'll always have Halloween."

"Yeah…Halloween." Finch said, thinking back on years of mischief, the memories surfacing as a cascade of images in his mind, the pictures as vivid as the moment they happened.

Sticking razor blades into ripe red apples, the taste of sticky, sugary candy, the taste of warm crimson blood. Pig Pig's endearing stupidity and Mr. Kitty's constant chase for the town's prized female, sarcasm dripping from every word he said in between. Memories of taking his little sister out, and always losing her, just to find out later she had always been playing a major role in the night's drama. And then, thoughts of Devil Lad, the brief moments alone together where Finch felt like he was with the one person he could relax around, where he felt like he could be himself. Every chaos crazed memory sweeter than the last. Even the ones that seemed like hell at the time were looked back on now tenderly.

Finch closed his eyes, trying to hold on to the moment at hand, preserving it so he could think back on this as a fond memory too. When it came right down to it, he may never find out who Devil Lad really was, where he was from or even what he may look like, but Finch figured it didn't matter as long as they could spend at least one night together, as long as they could keep creating memories together.

Finch felt the morning sun warm his exposed arms, chasing away the chill of the last October night. He opened his eyes and Devil Lad was gone, Finch's shoulder still cold where his hand had been. He hadn't felt him remove his hand or hear him leave, he was just gone into thin air again, leaving Finch alone on the table as the sun crept upwards in the sky, rising above the little homes and trees in the distance.

He smiled, removing the mask for the first time all night, revealing green eyes and a face full of freckles.

"Until next year." He whispered to no one but himself.


End file.
